


Winter Lives In My Bones

by katerina_sleeps



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, Mild Language, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:45:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katerina_sleeps/pseuds/katerina_sleeps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Boltons sack Winterfell, Osha takes Rickon to Bear Island instead of Skagos</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Lives In My Bones

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on livejournal for the got exchange (round 7)
> 
> http://got-exchange.livejournal.com/88780.html

I

The smell of Winterfell burning followed them for miles. A strong wind blew from the east, bringing with it flecks of ash from the ruins of the castle long after they’d lost sight of its granite walls. Osha walked quickly, nudging little Rickon along with the butt of her spear if he lingered over some distraction, but more often than not he was racing ahead of her with Shaggydog. She silently thanked the old gods for giving the boy enough sense to stay within her sights. 

“Osha! Osha!” Rickon ran to her as fast as his little legs could carry him. “I found more arrowheads!” he said, holding out his hands to show her. She knelt before him to look at his findings. The pointed stones glinted like metal in his palms. 

“That’s good, little prince,” she said. “We call it dragonglass beyond the Wall.” She closed his fingers around the arrowheads and smiled at him. “They’ll bring good luck. We could use us some.”

Rickon smiled back and placed the arrowheads carefully in his pocket before running back up to Shaggydog. Osha stood and shifted the pack on her back. The sun was low in the sky, setting over the trees before them. The Wolfswood, they’d called it at Winterfell. It wasn't far now. They would reach it before nightfall. 

Where they would go once they reached it…well. She would worry about that once they survived the night. 

Maester Luwin had warned her to keep the boy hidden at all costs. “War everywhere,” he’d said, “but the Dreadfort…stay away…Bolton men…they’ll want Robb’s heirs…”

“Where’s this Dreadfort?” 

“East.”

“Then we’ll go west,” she’d said, though the little gray man shook his head at that too.

“Ironmen at Deepwood Motte to the west-” 

“And trees to the west as well. I can keep us fed in the woods, and hidden from those ironmen too. I grew up in the Haunted Forest, old man. I can keep the boy safe there.” 

He’d nodded then, too weak to argue. “Mayhaps…the Mormonts are in the west…on an island though, Bear Island…you won’t be able to…” he’d winced and closed his eyes. “Do it now,” he’d whispered and Osha had pulled out her knife. 

“I’ll keep him safe,” she’d said as she slid the blade between his ribs. He’d died quickly, with a soft sigh. Osha had wiped the dagger on a clean corner of his grey robes and left him to the old gods. 

She prayed to those gods now. 

II

The forest was the easy part. 

There was plenty of game despite the autumn chill. Osha knew which plants were safe to eat, and they came across a berry patch ever once in a while. Rabbits were easy to catch and sometimes Shaggydog left them some deer meat after he’d eaten his fill. The trees grew close together; they couldn't travel quickly but as they weren't going anywhere in particular Osha didn't let their pace bother her. The trees protected them from the worst of the rains, at least.

When they’d been moving through the Wolfswood for two moons, Rickon caught a chill. Osha carried him for miles, scouring through the rain for some sort of shelter, before Shaggydog caught a scent and led them to an abandoned deer den. She dried the boy as best she could and left him with his wolf as she searched the area for plants her mother had shown her as a child, herbs and roots that chased illness away, praying to the old gods all the while. _Don’t let him die. He’s a true northerner, a prince, you can’t let him die._ When she returned to the den, Rickon was curled into a ball with the direwolf curled around him. She started a fire and boiled her concoction, yet by the time it was ready to drink the boy’s sweating had stopped and his trembling had stilled. Osha made him drink it anyway. Just because the old gods chose to keep him alive didn't mean she was taking any chances. 

He was as strong as he’d ever been two days later. They started walking again. 

Osha whittled Rickon a small spear from a tree branch. She taught him all she knew of hunting and fighting. She was no maester, but he had no need of sums or letters in the forest and the only things she knew how to teach him were the only things that mattered in the end. She would keep the promise she made to Maester Luwin, and the other young prince Bran, even if she died. Rickon was going to be able to survive without her if he had to. She would make sure of it. 

The first time they came across a weirwood, Osha felt something in her chest tighten. _We must be on the right path,_ she thought. Rickon laughed in delight and ran towards it, Shaggydog bounding alongside him. They circled the tree until they found its carved face. Osha knelt before it, resting her palms on the thick roots on either side of her. Rickon reached his hands out and ran them along the bone white trunk, tracing the crude features carved there with his fingers. 

“It’s different than the heart tree at home,” he said. 

“Aye, it is, little prince,” she said. “But the same gods live inside both of them. They live in every weirwood there is.” 

“Even the ones beyond the Wall?”

“Of course. Walls don’t mean nothing to the gods, even a wall as tall as the clouds.”

“My brother Jon lives on the Wall.”

“A crow is he? Well, no matter. I've no reason to run from the likes of them anymore.”

Rickon frowned at the tree. “Do you think if Jon is praying to a weirwood at the same time we’re praying to one, we could talk to him?” he said. 

Osha sighed. “I don’t know, child. But it can’t hurt to try.” 

They slept beneath the old gods that night and for the first time since leaving the burning castle, she felt that things might turn out all right. 

When she woke, Rickon was gone. 

Osha scrambled to her feet. Her head turned every which way, eyes trying to see everywhere at once. “Rickon?” she said, waiting for him to step out from behind a tree, or for Shaggydog to snarl at her. The woods were quiet. “Rickon!”

She looked to the spot where the boy and his wolf had slept and saw footprints; small boots and huge wolf paws. She followed them as fast as she could through the thick underbrush, tearing through the branches. 

_Keep him safe, keep him safe, keep him safe_

Osha burst through the trees to a small clearing and saw the boy kneeling by a stream. She stopped and closed her eyes, nearly choking on her relief. After a few deep breaths, the anger rushed over her. 

“What have I told you, boy?” she said, striding towards him. “No wondering off without tellin’ me, I've said it a thousand times! You’re not to run off into the forest by yourself, you hear me?” She grabbed his shoulders but Rickon wrenched himself out of her grip. 

“I wasn't alone!” he shouted. Shaggydog stepped into the clearing with a half-eaten squirrel in his mouth. As soon as he saw Osha he dropped it and bared his teeth. Osha backed away slowly. 

“What are you doing out here?” she said more gently. “You frightened me half to death.” 

“I saw something,” he said. 

“What do you mean? When?”

“Last night.”

Osha rubbed a hand across her face. “What did you see?”

Rickon glared at her and clenched his little fists. Shaggydog paced behind him. “Shaggy was with his brothers,” he said. “They were in a castle by a river. There was shouting in the castle, and killing, but they couldn't get in even though they were howling a whole lot. And everywhere was bloody, like Winterfell when we left it. And…there was a wolf with arrows sticking out of him and he…he didn't have a head.” 

Osha knelt before him, keeping a wary eye on the direwolf. “It’s only a dream, little prince,” she said, but Rickon shook his head hard, his tangled hair whipping around his face. He was crying. 

“It _wasn't_ a dream! Bran was there too, and Summer, and Robb…Robb…” Shaggydog started to whine. “Everyone is dead,” he said and then he succumbed to his tears. Osha pulled him into her arms and held him as he sobbed. 

The wolf threw back his head and howled. 

III

They didn't speak of it afterwards. They walked and hunted and trained with the spear during the day and they slept at night, though never again under a weirwood tree. They were nearing the end of the woods, Osha could feel it. The earth felt different beneath her feet and when the wind blew from the west it smelled of salt. She had never seen the sea before but she knew they were close. _And what are we supposed to do when we reach it?_

The morning they reached the edge of the forest, Osha was turning a pigeon on a spit over a fire when Rickon awoke. They stepped out of the woods with full bellies and laid eyes on the sea for the first time. At the sight of it, all questions and worries flew from her mind, if only for a moment. The few free folk she used to know who had traveled as far as the sea had spoken of its vastness, how it seemed to stretch endlessly towards the sky, but nothing she had pictured came close to the sight before her. There were no words that could describe it, at least none that she knew. 

Rickon and Shaggydog stumbled through the sand, and seemed almost happy until Shaggydog froze. He was staring past Rickon and Osha with his hackles raised and his teeth bared. A heartbeat later Osha heard the voices. She grabbed Rickon and pulled him back into the trees, Shaggydog following, and hid behind the nearest tree trunk big enough to keep them both out of sight. Covering Rickon’s mouth with her hand, she slowly peeked around the tree. 

Osha counted six of them. The krakens stitched over their chests matched the one the smiling Greyjoy boy used to wear, him and those he brought over Winterfell’s walls. She had no idea where that castle was that Maester Luwin said was taken by ironmen, but it couldn't have been far. 

The wind shifted and she cursed silently when one of the men lifted his head, frowning. 

“Do you smell that?” he said, eyeing the tree line. 

“Have you pissed yourself again?” said one of the others, a fat man with a longbow and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. 

“That can’t be it, he’s always covered in his own piss and he’s never smelled it before,” the youngest of the group said with a laugh. 

“Shut up,” the first one said. He was still staring at the trees. “Someone’s lit a cookfire in there,” he said. The others stopped smiling. Their hands drifted towards their swordbelts as they looked to the trees. The fat man drew and arrow. Osha looked at Rickon and put a finger to her lips. He nodded and she let go of him, crouched with her spear in hand and waited.

The first man took a few cautious steps into the wood. Osha slipped around the thick trunk of the pine as he drew level with her, his sword raised before him. A branch snapped to his right and he spun around towards the noise, his back towards Osha. She stepped out from behind the tree and thrust the tip of her spear into the back of the man’s neck. The point went straight through and came out the front of his throat before he could make a sound. She yanked her spear back out and blood gushed from his neck and mouth as he collapsed. 

“Alven?” a voice called out from the beach. When no one answered, the others started towards the trees. Osha’s grip tightened on her spear. Five wasn't so many to fight, but she had no shield and a spear wasn't much good against an archer. She braced herself for the attack, silently willing Rickon to run as soon as the fighting started. Their footsteps drew closer. 

And then one of them screamed. 

Osha leapt out from behind the tree, but no one noticed her. The youngest of the ironmen was lying on the ground with blood pooling under him. Another one was fighting the person who seemed to have killed him, and the others turned to join the fight. Two figures jumped down from tree branches onto the backs of the ironmen. Osha watched the strangers fight, thinking it could be a good time to grab Rickon and run, when one ironman knocked the helm off of his opponent and she saw that he was fighting a woman. He laughed when he saw her. 

“So you cunts didn't get enough of a beating already on that shit island of yours?” he said with a grin. The woman grinned right back. 

“You forget, good ser,” she said. “More of you were killed than us.” She swung her arm around and her axe caught him in the flesh between his neck and his shoulder. 

The woman and her companions were good fighters but they were outnumbered. When Osha saw an arrow pierce one of them she joined the fray, making straight for the archer. Her spear was through his stomach and out his back before he could draw another arrow. She yanked it free but as soon as she did another man knocked her on her back. He stood over her, his sword raised, when a huge black figure burst through the trees and landed on top of him. Shaggydog’s teeth ripped his throat out as easy as if it was made of silk before moving on to another. Within seconds all the ironmen were dead. 

Osha rose quickly, watching the three she’d help save. She was surprised to see that they were all women. They seemed as wary of her as she was of them. One of them had an arrow through her shoulder and another was kneeling next to her to examine the wound. The third woman, the one with the axe, spoke to Osha. 

“Who are you?” she said. 

“Doesn't matter.”

“You saved our lives. How can we repay you if we don’t know who you are?”

“I don’t need repayment more than you leaving me be so I can be on my way.”

The woman started towards her when Shaggydog abandoned his feast and growled at her, moving between her and Osha. The woman stared at him, her eyes widening, when Rickon ran over to them. 

“Shaggy!” he said. He ran up to the wolf and buried his hands in the fur at the beast’s shoulder. 

“Call him off, boy,” Osha said. All three women had a bear on their tunics. 

“Come on Shaggy.” Rickon tugged at the wolf’s fur until he gave in and moved to stand beside Osha. The woman stared. 

“Do you come from Bear Island?” Osha said. The woman tore her eyes away from the wolf. 

“Yes.”

“Why were you fighting these ones?” Osha nudged one of the corpses with her foot.

The woman shrugged. “Ironmen have grown bold in their raiding of late. We killed some and captured more, but these ones ran back to their ship. We chased them here from our shores across the water.” 

“Why trouble yourselves so much over six men?”

“If six run back to Pyke with our crops and our women we’ll have twenty more to contend with in a moon’s turn. We've been fighting off kraken spawn for hundreds of years and they haven’t beaten us yet. Bear Island is ours.” She studied Osha for a moment. “You’re not from a fishing village are you?” 

“It’s not your business where we’re from,” Osha said. She felt Rickon’s hand tug at her tunic and she took it in her own. The woman looked at Rickon, then at the huge black wolf pacing behind them, the ironman’s blood still dripping from his muzzle. Osha tried to think of a story to tell them, any story that could protect Rickon. But there was nothing to say. There were only five direwolves south of the Wall and everyone knew who they belonged to. 

The Bear Island woman looked back at Osha. “My husband went to war with Maege Mormont and her daughters when Robb Stark called his banners,” she said. Osha tightened her grip on Rickon’s hand. Shaggydog growled low in his throat. The woman eyed him warily, but didn't back away. Her companions watched the exchange, even the one with an arrow still stuck inside her. “He was killed at that Frey wedding, along with my lady’s daughter and my king. We got a raven soon after from King’s Landing bidding Bear Island to bend the knee to that Lannister boy. It said that our treason would be forgiven if we swear fealty, that some southern child is the one true king.” She looked at the direwolf again. “But they also sent a letter some moons back that told us Robb Stark’s brothers and heirs were dead.” She turned back to Osha. They just looked at each other for a moment, until the woman continued. “I can give you safe passage to Bear Island. No one will find you there.”

“And why would we do that?”

“Because we’re only a few miles from Deepwood Motte and the krakens are holding Lady Sybelle hostage in her own castle. They've been raiding every village on the coast and they want the North for themselves. If they find Robb Stark’s brother alive, he won’t be for long.” 

Osha felt Rickon lean into her leg. “Why would you want to help him?”

The woman squared her shoulders and looked right into Osha’s eyes. “Because I’m a Northerner,” she said. “We chose our king. And now it’s my duty to protect him.”

IV

Lyanna Mormont was tall for her age. She had brown hair and brown eyes and a sly smile. She sat at a table at the end of a long, simple hall made up entirely of logs, alone but for a man with thick grey hair, grey robes, and a heavy chain of many metals around his neck. As they walked the length of it, Osha noticed the girl’s toes just barely reached the floor from the chair she sat on. She watched them walk towards her with a curious look on her face. They were led by the women from the beach: Alyanne, Mira, who was still bleeding from her shoulder wound, and Tennae, the leader of the group. Lyanna hopped down from her seat and met them halfway down the hall, the maester a pace behind her. 

“Mira! Are you alright? What happened?” she said. 

“I’m fine. One of the raiders hit me with an arrow, but it’s nothing.”

“Maester Denys, please see to Mira’s wound.”

He bowed his head. “Of course, my lady.” He led Mira out of the hall. Lyanna turned to Tennae. 

“Did you catch up to the ironmen?” she said

Tennae nodded. “You were right, the damage to their ship was too much. They had to abandon it. We found them on a beach a few miles north of Deepwood Motte.”

Lyanna looked at Osha and Rickon. “And your companions?”

Tennae turned to them. Osha cleared her throat and bowed her head. “My name’s Osha, milady,” she said. “We've traveled a long way to find you.” She put her hand on Rickon’s head. “This here is Robb Stark’s baby brother.”

“I’m not a baby! I’m _five_ ,” Rickon said. 

Lyanna stared at him for a long moment, then looked back at Tennae. “Are you sure of this?” she said. 

Tennae nodded. “They have a direwolf with them, a huge black beast. He’s outside, hunting. He tore the throats out of three of those ironmen but he heeds the boy without a fuss. I've never seen anything like it.”

Lyanna knelt down before Rickon so they were of a height. “What’s your name?”

He looked up at Osha. She nodded. “Rickon,” he said. 

“You’re a long way from home, my prince,” said Lyanna. “Why don’t we get you and Osha some supper and a clean featherbed for the night? Would you like that?” 

“Do you have honey cakes?”

Lyanna smiled. “As a matter of fact, we do.” She rose to her feet. “You brought him all the way here by yourself?” she asked Osha. 

“There was no one else, milady. Them northmen with the pink man on their banners, they burnt Winterfell up. We had to run before they came back.” Osha paused, not sure what more she should say. “I was only a scullion, milady, but I looked after the boys too. I care for this one as if he were my own son.” 

“The boys?” Lyanna said. “So the other brother is alive as well?”

“Bran’s not coming back,” Rickon said.

Tennae frowned and opened her mouth to speak but Osha shook her head. Lyanna looked back and forth between them before taking Rickon’s hand. “Let’s get you fed, shall we?” 

V

Bear Island felt more like home to Osha than Winterfell ever had, though everyday life was much the same. She spent most of her time looking after Rickon, trying to keep him from getting himself into trouble. While he spent his mornings with the maester learning his letters or with the master at arms swinging a sword, she aided Lady Lyanna in any way she was able. The island was preparing for the winter and there was plenty of work for everyone. The lady was still just a girl, but she was wise beyond her years and her people respected her. 

Osha often found herself working alongside Mira in the kitchens. When she asked what a kitchen maid was doing going after raiders, Mira only laughed. 

“Everyone on the island fights off the raiders,” she said. “Boys and girls alike have to learn to defend themselves here. When our men go off to war, the krakens don’t stop the raids. It’s up to us to protect our home.” She, Alyanne, and Tennea had grown up with the Mormont daughters, and Lyanna trusted them as much as she did the maester. 

In the evenings before the sun went down completely, Osha would explore the island with Rickon and Shaggydog. It was a desolate place, especially with the snows getting heavier, but strangely beautiful all the same. The island ended in cliffs in the west and Osha liked to stand at the top of them and stare out at the sea, with the fierce wind tugging at her hair and clothes. It felt wild up there, almost like home. 

Not long after Osha and Rickon had settled into life on Bear Island, a white raven arrived from the south. 

“It means winter has come,” Lyanna said over supper that evening. 

Osha snorted. “I don’t need some fancy bird to tell me when it’s winter,” she said. “I've got eyes in my head.” 

Rickon laughed, and Osha was sure she saw Lyanna trying to hide a smile. “I just hope I've done enough for us to last until spring,” she said, amusement forgotten. “I keep trying to think what my mother would have done.” 

Tennae patted her hand. “You've done well my lady. Your mother will be proud of you when she returns and sees how well you took care of your home.”

“ _If_ she comes home. No one has seen or heard of her in a year. Even Alysane doesn't know if she’s still alive.” 

They finished eating in silence. 

The next evening a raven arrived from Stannis Baratheon, demanding fealty from the northern lords. Osha and Rickon watched as she paced beside the table at the end of the hall. 

“He would have me give up my gods as well as the freedom of the North,” she said, angrier than Osha had ever seen her. “‘In the name of R’hllor,’ it says. Does he truly believe any Northern lord will accept him as their king?” 

Maester Denys sighed. “They don’t have much choice, child,” he said. “With the Northern forces scattered and winter upon us no one has the strength or the will to fight him. If the lords believe he can take Winterfell back from the Bolton bastard they’ll be inclined to support him.”

“Fine. They can call him king if they must. I know who our true king is.” She sat down in front of a piece of parchment and a quill and began writing. 

When Maester Denys had left with the letter, Lyanna sat with Osha, Rickon, and Shaggydog beside the fire in hall’s large hearth. Rickon and the wolf were playing some sort of game that only they understood. Osha knew the boy was as safe with the wolf as he would be with a kitten, but she watched them carefully all the same. 

“It’ll be years before the boy is ready to be the king you want him to be,” Osha said. 

“That’s alright,” Lyanna said. “It doesn't matter how long it takes. When he rises, the North will rise with him. We don’t forget.” 

Rickon collapsed beside them, breathless. Osha ruffled his hair. The auburn tangles fell past his shoulders now. “Are you ready for bed, little man?” she said. 

He shook his head. “I want a story,” he said, tugging at Lyanna’s sleeve. 

“The lady has more important things to do than tell you a story, boy.”

Lyanna smiled. “No, it’s alright. I have a good one for you. It all started when my sisters and I decided to go on a hunt…”

Osha closed her eyes and listened to Lyanna recount a tale of youthful adventure that made Rickon giggle and gasp by turns. She was a good little storyteller. When it was finished, the fire was low. The hall was still for a moment, quiet but for the crackling of the flames. Rickon looked up at Lyanna. 

“Are your sisters dead?” he asked. 

Lyanna bit her lip. “All of my sisters went south for the war,” she said. “My oldest sister, Dacey, was killed at the Red Wedding.”

“Like Robb and Mother?”

“Yes. My next sister is Alysane. I haven’t had a raven from her in weeks, but I think she’s still alive. I don’t know about Jorelle or Lyra.” 

Rickon picked at a loose thread in his sleeve. “My parents are dead, and Robb too. Bran and Jon are still alive I think, but they can’t ever come back home. I don’t know where my sisters are.” 

Lyanna took his face in her hands and tilted it so she could look in his eyes. “When you’re old enough, we’ll take you home to Winterfell and every Northern lord will kneel to you. They will rally their armies for King Robb’s heir, and you will rule the North as the Starks have done for thousands of years. And I promise you, your grace, you will find your sisters and bring them home.” 

Rickon nodded and Lyanna kissed his forehead. Osha took his hand. “Come on, little one,” she said. “Time for bed.” 

That night Osha sat by Rickon’s bed and watched him sleep for a long time. Shaggydog was curled up at the foot of the bed and she knew he was watching her. Sometimes she felt like it was Rickon staring at her through those green eyes. 

Snow fell thickly outside the window. She couldn't see more than a foot through it, but she knew there was a forest beyond the white. On a clear day, a patch of red weirwood leaves was visible among the green. Osha prayed to that weirwood now. 

_Let him grow, old gods. Let him grow into the king he needs to be. Let him find his sisters and slay his enemies. Let him live._


End file.
